


Memory's Edge

by Xanateria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:11:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanateria/pseuds/Xanateria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes arrogance can’t see you through. A vision of a possible future that proves not every story has a happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005, while I tried to deal with the loss of my father. Originally posted to LJ, now revised and posted here. Came to me out of the blue at 5 am. Demanded to be written while I was trying to work on my longer piece. Who was I to refuse?

From below him came the sounds of celebration. Finally, what they had all wanted for so long. Peace at last. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. A precious few seemed to understand that this fragile peace would be threatened soon enough by all of those looking to build a power base of their own out of the ruin of Voldemort. Even fewer realized that the losses they had suffered would be years, perhaps even decades in rebuilding. If they could be rebuilt at all.

Years of fighting had left him little time for thoughts of a peaceful future. Now that he had it, he found that he didn’t want it. How ironic that the Boy Who Lived so very much wished he were dead. There was nothing left for him. Oh, his friends were right enough. Mostly. Ron and Hermione would be married as soon as they could. The Weasely family was doing well, except for the loss of Percy. Dumbledore was frail from stress but would recover. Almost everyone he could think of would recover. And he was sure they thought the same of him.

But none of them knew. None of them understood. And he saw no point in telling them now. Hindsight wouldn’t make it any easier for them to truly understand what he'd gone through. What he was going through. With everyone out making merry, his room was probably the only one occupied. It was so quiet he heard only the rasp of his own ragged breathing. 

Helpless against the assault of his own mind he remembered the day they’d agreed. Draco’s arguments had been so logical, though his eyes had burned with as the same tangle of emotions Harry’d felt. In the end, however reluctantly, Harry had agreed it was safer for them and their friends if no one knew of their relationship until it was safe, whenever that might be. 

With typical Slytherin arrogance Draco had known he would win the argument. It’d been in his eyes, but the memory of his kisses and the gratitude in his eyes had made it bearable. If they were together, anything was bearable.

With an effort he snapped himself back to the present, oblivious to the scenes of joy playing out below him in Diagon Alley. And so none of his friends knew of their relationship. Relationship, such a small word for a love that had grown to be the only thing that mattered to him in a world turned upside down. Missions had kept them apart at times. It had separated them all, but they’d made the best of the time they had. Small comfort now, but at least he knew that to be true.

That same damnable Slytherin arrogance had made Draco so sure he could pull it off. Implement a plan that would save Harry, kill Voldemort and still allow him to come back to his love whole, healthy and ready to start a very public life together. 

Equal parts fury and agony bubbled up from inside Harry as all the furnishings but the bed he sat on shattered. The love he still held to so tightly was no match for his anger. What had the fool been thinking of, trying something so very foolish, and with his own father as a pawn. He, of all people, should have known better. But, even as he told himself that, guilt ate at him. 

Draco had been so determined to keep any prophecy, wizard or other inconvenience, as he called it, from hurting Harry that he had lost his own sense of logic. It was his desire to protect Harry that had gotten him killed. He’d known that ever since the day the rescue team had brought back what was left of the body to Hogwarts, and pieced together the details. Posthumously declared a hero for defying his father and being instrumental in Voldemort’s downfall, Draco had been hailed as a saviour. Even those who had admitted to hating him had changed their tune. Oh yes, he knew all too well how quickly that could happen.

The partial success of his plan had crippled Voldemort enough that a hand-picked team, headed by Harry himself, had infiltrated Voldemort's ever-moving headquarters and finished what his love had started. He didn’t remember much of the mission. Only small pieces and the very end. His grief had given him the strength to continue when even he knew he should have been exhausted. As per usual, Hermione and Ron had seen to it that he’d returned to his rooms at Hogwarts safely. Only days later he’d left them. Barely able to walk under his own power, he’d had to leave. His memories ate at him, tormented his waking hours and invaded his sleep. The questions in his friends eyes grew ever more obvious. He’d had to get out.

And out he was. Alone with his memories. Their first so tentative kiss, the first time they had made love, their first fight as lovers. So many firsts. Birthday surprises, anniversaries commemorated in secret, but so very happily. Memories brought more pain than comfort though. The reality of them cut through him with razor shards of pain until he was weeping, heedless of his own sobs. Where grief had once given him strength, it now drove him to the very edge of sanity. He could see only a void where visions of his future had once been. And so he cried, and the tears flowed long past when the noises of celebration finally quieted.

~~FIN~~


End file.
